TO WHERE YOU ARE

I was looking at various and sundry songs on You Tube recently, and came across Josh Groban's, "To Where You Are." And as the music video played out its heart-rending lyrics, I happened to look down in the comments section. One comment in particular caught my eye. A fellow named Paul spoke about his mother who was in the process of dying in a distant city. She had been comatose for a week, and during that week her son would call, and the hospice nurse would put the phone up to her ear.

And on that fateful evening, as the nurse gently placed the phone next to her, Paul turned on his CD player, and the ethereal melody of, "To Where You Are" drifted across the airy span which separated them from one another. When the song concluded, the RN picked up the phone, and told Paul that his mother had suddenly woken from her coma, mouthed the words, "Thank you" and "Goodbye, Paul," and passed on to her eternal reward.

Following are the words which I posted beneath this same melody.

"I can relate to Paul's comment about playing this song to his mom on the phone, as she was going on to meet her Maker. I have sung at the bedsides of loved ones, as they prepared to cross over. In one case my wife, who was at the time a visiting hospice nurse, called me at home, and asked if I would sing to her patient. I readily agreed, and she put the phone up to the ear of her patient, and I sang to him; (Amazing Grace, as I recall).

My wife said the elderly man raised his hands in worship. And though he didn't pass immediately, I like to think my long distance intervention soothed and encouraged this dear man; if only for a moment."

Post-Script

As my own mother was in the process of passing from this life to the next, she drifted away from us, and her death appeared to be imminent. During that intervening space in time, I sang "Amazing Grace" to her... and she suddenly came back to us, if only for a little while.

I can't recall the words I said to my mother that day, but she was aware of my presence, and she responded to me. And then, after a precious few minutes, mama returned to the place from whence she came; to the Giver of life, and our only hope in the realm in which we pin our hopes.

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending